


Paintball Wars

by TyrantChimera



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: reupload from ff.net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 10:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20704784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrantChimera/pseuds/TyrantChimera
Summary: Trooper Cloud Strife, punching bag of the barracks, relative of chocobos, doormat of the military, and overall blonde extraordinaire, was not having a very good day. Why? Simple. Because some SOLDIER jackass was having a birthday. Rated for language, oneshot, reupload from fanfiction.net





	Paintball Wars

**Author's Note:**

> also posted on fanfiction.net, about time I transferred it. It's probably my most popular fic for FFVII, and had the most likes of all my fics. Whee.

Trooper Cloud Strife, punching bag of the barracks, relative of chocobos, doormat of the military, and overall blonde extraordinaire, was not having a very good day. Why? Simple. Because some SOLDIER jackass was having a birthday.

Said jackass apparently had a penchant for pranks, including running rampant through the ShinRa building victimizing random people at three in the morning. How did he know this? Because at precisely two fifty five am, Cloud had been awoken by someone scrambling through infantry gear. He'd paid little attention to it, more concerned at being awoken exactly two hours and five minutes before he had been scheduled to patrol the perimeter of the company's building. Not nearly enough time to get back to a restful sleep (not that he hadn't tried). Shortly after reawakening at approximately four fifty-eight, he'd gotten up, scrambled himself into his gear after realizing he'd overslept, and lined up for duty in front of his superior officer.

That was when he realized four things. One, that someone messing with the infantry gear had put glue into the helmet, which was by now thoroughly set. Two, they had also put the visor settings on 'infra-red' and he couldn't switch it to any other because they'd glued the switch down as well. Three, he was exactly two minutes and seventeen seconds late, as quite clearly pointed out by his flailing and screaming superior (who he could see was quite red-faced, even the visor couldn't hide that!).

Four? He now had to pull a double-shift due to being late.

Like he'd said. SOLDIER. Jackass.

And he knew they were SOLDIER, the grapevine attested to that rather clearly. Some guy called Fair who was, in Cloud's humble opinion, going to suffer a humiliation of roughly one hundred and twenty-one percent of all his manly pride points if Cloud could ever get his hands on him. And yet another realization. Even bone tired at two in the afternoon, his military setting made him very aware of time and schedules, and that doing inconsequential mental math about said schedules and humiliation percentages was the only thing keeping him from going insane.

Oh, wait. Little blonde chocobo boy with hair defying gravity who was born and raised in a town that hated his guts, and who had both masochism and anger management issues at the same time, in an environment where dragons and undead wolves (gotta love that howling technique) were considered typical neighbours? Oh, and haunted mansions whose ghosts snored in the non-existent basements?

Going insane? Nope. Already there. Grew up there, in fact.

He must have been insane, he figured, because he was currently in a part of his patrol area that no one else even bothered to check when given this route. It was one of the alleys by the Shinra building, and Cloud felt it his moral obligation to do his job right and investigate the totally empty alley regardless of how worthless others thought the endeavor. He knew for a fact that there was a door to the building in the ally (he'd seen the rusted thing hidden behind a dumpster the one time he'd been shoved into it), so he patrolled the area regardless of the wasted effort. You never knew when terrorists might get clever and exploit such a little-known path.

Pshah. Yeah right.

Still, he left the alley, fully expecting that his patrols would keep him far out of the reach of whatever that Fair asshole was planning. Sadly, this was not to be.

“STRIFE! Get over here! I'm relieving you!”

Blinking (not that anyone could see), Cloud turned to look at his superior, blankly gaping, “Um, huh?”

“It's a hellhole in there and I sure as heck ain't dealing with it. The higher-ups in there want troops to help sort out the mess, so guess what sweetcheeks, I'm taking over your nice, cozy little patrol so that YOU can deal with it. Not me. Have fun!” With that, his commanding officer shoved him towards the Shinra building all too gleefully before skedaddling as Cloud stood staring dumbly after him.

Cloud blinked.

Cloud turned to see the damage inside the building.

Cloud promptly cursed up a storm harsh enough to make a certain cigar-smoking captain on the other side of the planet sit bolt upright in pride for no particular reason.

Whatever was going on, it was a mess. Opaque liquids decorated the windows in odd hues (which may have translated to a wide variety of colours, infra red was NOT good for discerning the subtle differences). Splatters of paint (or some other susbstance, for all he knew) dripping through cracks in the front door while others oozed down the glass, mixing into horrid consistencies that rather resembles monster snot or other things Cloud's rather imaginative mind would rather not think about, yet did.

And he hadn't even gone through the door yet. Oh joy.

Private Strife huffed, drew himself up, and bravely marched forwards into the nightmare that was probably going to be his personal hell. Well, as long as he wasn't going to get shoved into a dress or something, it couldn't possibly be that bad, right?

Wrong. Very very wrong.

Before he knew it his officers had wrung him ragged, dragging him each and every way as they hollered orders that Cloud was pretty sure only he was listening to. Something about a paintball war. Troops and SOLDIERs alike were yelling and whooping up a storm, and poor Cloud ended up the butt of their jokes more than a few times. Eventually he gave up when the PA system itself was hijacked, because there was no way in heck Shinra had legitimately given up and ordered that the whole shebang be used as a training exercise instead. Absolutely no way. Except, of course, for the fact that unofficial teams were springing up left right and center, and his superior officer just took his rifle away to be replaced with a paintgun instead. Oh, and the fact that he was now the preferred meatshield for more than half of his traitorous 'comrades' and superiors (if he ever found out who that spiky-headed turk with the ponytail was they were in for it). Mind you, a wiggly meatshield that was hard to hit and even harder to keep in front of you, but still.

Really, poor Cloud had no idea what to think. Although somewhere along the line “Fuck it” had apparently entered the situation, because he was standing quite suddenly in the middle of a hallway with a tired expression ground into his features. Well. What to do now.

Ten seconds passed in relative silence before a humanoid blur ran screeching down the hall towards him.

“How dare you! This is genuine leather you ingrates! Watch who you're aiming at!!”

A dozen more figures followed behind that one soon after, laughing and jeering as they fired potshots at the poor man fleeing their wrath with astounding speed.

Cloud stood blandly watching the scene before aiming his gun at the crowd and firing for all he was worth. Yup. Fuck it. If he was going to have to live in this hell he was taking some people down with him.

The red-clad one apparently had the same idea, “That's it! I'm sick of your petty revenge! Time to dance you pathetic mongrels!!”

Fireballs whizzed down the hall, the others coming to a screeching halt and yelping and they hopped about comically to avoid the burning projectiles whizzing at them. A few more potshots were fired off as the group retreated.

Cloud batted aside one paintball and took another on the arm as the man cowering behind him hollered triumphantly, “Serves you right!”

Cloud just gave him a bland look. One that he'd personally perfected that made him absolutely eerie when combined with the glowing red eyes of his still-stuck-in-infrared-damnit visor.

“...Sir...”

He could tell from his scans that the person's temperature was probably a little higher than normal. Likely they were in SOLDIER, which instantly translated to I'm-your-superior-you-little-twit. Which meant he should probably obey anything they said.

“What are you looking at?” snapped the person, huffing as they drew themselves to full height.

“You I suppose, sir. What was that about?”

Another huff followed, “Some idiots who thought they could use this excuse to one-up a superior. Speaking of which, a little more respect would be appreciated considering who I am,” he snarled.

“My apologies sir,” Cloud said, saluting, “no offense intended. I just can't see shit with this visor on and all, sir.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. Someone pranked the bunks last night and I'm stuck on infrared. And the helmet's glued on too, so...”

“Ah. Well. A legitimate excuse, I suppose.” The other person stood up, and judging from the angle of their face they were looking at him. “Admittedly it's somewhat refreshing to have a trooper that isn't bowing and scraping like an idiot just at the sight of me.”

Cloud squirmed, “Uh, right, thank you sir. Uhm...” Cloud tried to take in his superior's stance and clothing a little more despite his visionary impairments. “Sir? Your jacket, is that the leather thing they were shooting at?”

The way the man's outline flared (as only a rather flamboyant outfit could flare he thought, but wisely kept to himself) as he turned more towards Cloud indicated that he's gotten the man's full attention. “Why yes, unfortunately.”

“If you don't mind me suggesting sir, there's a janitor's closet nearby where you could probably stash it safely for a while, at least until this whole mess blows over.”

The man was silent.

“Sir?”

“Practical too. Useful,” he hummed. “Well, go on, show me the way,” he said, waving Cloud onwards. Cloud nodded, leading the way until they arrived at their destination just a few minutes later. Noises sounded down the hall, and the man grabbed Cloud and ducked into the closet just quickly enough to avoid what sounded like another stampede of over-enthusiastic paintballers as they thundered down the hall. The Nibel blonde let out a small sigh of relief before regarding his superior officer.

“Think this will work, sir?”

“Hmm.”

The man gracefully sauntered around the small room, no mean feat as it was barely few feet wide at its largest point. A few motions and the coat was folded safely on a shelf. The figure nodded appreciatively before something else caught his eyes and he hummed. Cloud, being the cannon fodder that he was, just let his superior do whatever it is he wanted to do.

The man turned around, possibly grinning, before brandishing two paintcans and something else Cloud couldn't quite make out through the infrared.

“Want to help me with a bit of revenge?”

Cloud blinked, taken aback. “Uh, sir...?”

“There are cans of paint, various types of balloons from some office party or another, and more than enough other knicknacks in here to make even Zachary Fair faint with joy, that ruddy little imp.”

“Wait, Fair? The one who started this whole thing?” growled the blonde.

“Oh, indeed, Fair. The one who started this whole paintball war. Also, the one who I will be siccing Bahamut on should I get the chance, because clearly fireballs alone are not enough to get that one to behave.”

“Zachary Fair.”

“The very one.”

Cloud paused for a moment. “What do you want me to do?” 

The other chuckled darkly, “Eager are we? Then let's get to it!”

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

By the time him and his officer had fully stocked themselves and set out, the war had become even more frenetic. It was no great deal to the pair, both of whom were quite swift and good at dodging. It didn't take them too long to find the source of all their problems. They'd just rounded the corner before spotting an impromptu barricade, managing to dodge back behind the corner just in time to avoid a barrage. Cloud managed to peek around the corner before giving his ally a grin.

The situation would be dire to anyone else. Zack and his allies held the advantage, their guns set to hit whomever was foolish enough to walk into their sights. Cloud grinned, fingering one of his secret weapons cautiously before hollering the one word that would ensure his and his ally's success.

“GRENAAAAADE!”

Years of SOLDIER training set all their opponents diving for cover behind an upturned table. Silence reigned.

Zack popped up a few seconds later, confusion clear on his face, “Waitaminute, paintball fights don't have grenades!”

A water balloon to the face, filled with paint from the janitorial closet, proved the black-haired SOLDIER wrong quite nicely.

Said man fell back sputtering, his allies' outcries of dismay echoing along with the thud from where he hit the floor. No doubt the whole team was smothered in the (apparently) cream-coloured liquid, a definite testament to the fact that they'd lost the fight. Cloud grinned, and the man behind him laughed uproariously.

“Well done! I like you kid!”

“Uh, th-thanks sir!”

“Now worries, let's retreat before they regroup!”

The pair ran down the hall, dodging up and down a few floors to throw off any potential pursuers. Cloud turned to look at the other for a moment as they caught their breath. “What next?”

His officer, or whatever the other man's rank was, seemed to contemplate for a while before answering. “Well, we still have quite a lot of ammunition left, and I am feeling particularly tricky today. Tell me, feel like sticking around for a little while longer?”

“Might as well sir,” he shrugged.

“Good, then follow me!”

They continued to dart about the Shinra building, initiating a few scuffles and running from a few others. Cloud could tell the other was looking for something, or someone, judging by the apparently random paths they were taking, but really he didn't mind. If anything happened he could just blame his superior for it, after all. It'd be interesting to see who his superior was actually looking for.

As if on cue, the other man signaled for him to stop, peeking around a corner. Cloud followed suite when it seemed safe. A bunch of people were milling about cautiously, no doubt sensing something amiss. Or maybe just worried about the paintball war like he was, who knew.

Something must have been off alright though, because his ally had retreated with a hiss.

“You know what, no, I think this may have been a bad idea, they're both in there, oh dear...”

“Sir?”

“Yes?” His friend (dare he say that?) turned to look at him curiously.

Cloud stuttered for a moment before continuing, “I don't know what you're up to, but backing down now probably won't solve anything. You might as well go for it, right?”

The man fell silent, chancing another quick peak around the corner. “Look at him, he's just sitting there like nothing's happening. Show-offy bastard.” He was speaking aloud more to himself than anything, but Cloud, having had to deal with inhibition all his life, recognized the self- directed pep talk for all it was.

He grinned.

“With all due respect sir, let the pro handle it.”

Cloud leaned around the corner slowly, aiming quietly at what seemed to be a light source when he was quite sure no one had noticed him. Barely a second later he'd shot out the light, flung another grenade and bolted back around the corner yelling, “We're under attaaaaaack!!!”

That did it. Yelps of surprise preceded a cacophony of crashes and bangs as people ducked for cover, Cloud throwing yet another grenade for good measure.

“Tell me again why you aren't in SOLDIER?” his ally guffawed loudly, having to raise his voice to be heard over the wails and general pandemonium.

“Crippling confidence issues!” grinned the blonde in response.

Another grin answered, “Oh really?”

“With all due respect sir, I can't see shit all and I'm probably pretty much doomed anyways, so fuck it!”

The other looked around the corner, judging the distance to an overturned desk with a distinctive figure peering out from behind it, and huffed in amusement. “You know what? I think you're right. Fuck it. Name`s Genesis by the way. Let's get him!”

The two dashed around the corner at top speed, and before anyone could react the redhead had shot several people with a stolen paintgun and his blonde companion jumped the barrier. Yes, jumped it, right alongside the first class, and the pair managed to glance down for a split second right as Cloud was dropping his last two 'grenades'. Genesis knew Cloud couldn't see the identity of the person they'd just bombarded, and what a shame that was.

His eyes met with Sephiroth, a very uncharacteristic look of shock on the man's face. Something else moved in Genesis's peripheral vision, but he dodged it instinctively, too focused on watching his fellow first class's moment-of-doom expression.

They sailed over, Genesis internally whooping with glee. Startling Sephiroth was a major achievement in his books, and he was pretty sure the expression on his face would be one of his favourite memories for years to come.

His trooper partner hit the ground hard beside him, rolling to reduce the damage while Genesis merely slid forwards a bit upon landing. Even as the other scrambled upright, stumbling along, Genesis grabbed the back of his uniform, yelling “Run!” in a voice far too giddy to be entirely serious. The pair dashed off.

“Genesis! Hold!”

The redhead managed a quick look over his shoulder to see that Angeal, formerly hidden behind another barrier, was jumping out and rushing towards them. The broad-shouldered man seemed serious despite the random splatters of pink and lime paint scuffed across his form.

Genesis ignored him, instead grabbing the trooper outright around the waist and increasing his speed, “Catch me if you can!”

The two began a chase, the red commander veering around corners the moment his friend managed to catch him in his view. He laughed aloud, ignoring Angeals yells for him to wait. When was the last time he'd just let go like this? This was fun! He was quickly startled out of his euphoria when another voice cut into the fray.

“Genesis, stop. He's injured!”

That stopped him dead. Whether it was the sight of Sephiroth coming out in front of him, covered in wall paint, or the urgency in his voice, the redhead stopped, cautiously looking around and then at his friend. “Injured?”

“I-I'm alright!” the trooper stuttered.

Looking over at his unintentional captive, Genesis was quickly alarmed. The boy's front was covered in blood. The next instant he'd plopped the youth down on the ground and pulled up his shirt, much to the boy's distress. Having never been one for personal space where injuries were concerned, Genesis merely smacked him lightly on his helmet (not quite his head, but close enough) and began berating him.

“You little idiot, how did this happen?”

A thing, red line crossed his chest, bleeding steadily. The boy squirmed and stammered, completely uncomfortable with his treatment, “Really, it's not that bad, sir.”

“My apologies, I reacted poorly when he startled me,” Sephiroth explained.

“Note to self, make sure Masamune isn't nearby the next time I try that,” Genesis chuckled.

“W-wait, Masamune? Who are you guys?! You're not- oh no!”

Angeal, who had arrived on the scene just prior, raised his eyebrow when the trooper began to squirm and panic from the information finally sinking in, “Hold still, you'll open your wound further! Genesis, how does he not know who we are?” He placed his hand down firmly on the boy's chest, rifling through one of the emergency first aid kits he'd purloined from the wall nearby even as he eyed the too-thin ribs disdainfully.

“Your puppy stuck glue in his helmet and jammed the visor to infrared only.”

“Ah.”

Meanwhile, the boy had gone stock still, possibly from shock, but was still managing to breathe evenly despite a slightly hysterical, if muted, squeaking he made on occasion. As Angeal bandaged the gash across the boy's chest, Genesis couldn't help but find the noises slightly endearing. Normally he'd be utterly annoyed at someone making such pathetic sounds, but considering the prior situation (and possible blood loss) he couldn't help but understand the boy's plight. It had been a crazy day for everyone, and all the previous bravado had probably run out, leaving a bit of a startled and shell-shocked mess behind.

Angeal hummed at his work, satisfied, then abruptly swept the trooper up into into a bridal carry. There was a startled yelp from the trooper, which Angeal ignored, “Come on, let's get you to the infirmary.”

Despite the gruff man's caring tone, the trooper looked about ready to book it, injury be damned. Genesis figured he owed the boy at least a little for helping him cut loose, so he began to ramble bemusedly.

“Well, this has certainly been quite a day. So, Sephiroth, enjoying your new look?”

The paint-covered man looked confused. “New look?”

“Well yes, you know, the one where you look like either a drowned rat or a melted sundae, what with all that ice cream coloured mess you're drizzled in.”

The trooper went dead silent. Sephiroth looked down at himself, frowning. Angeal caught onto the game before he could reply. “No, I think he rather resembles a statue. You know, the ones the pigeons like?”

The trooper barely contained a snort, shaking in mirth even as Sephiroth smirked. Before he could react, Genesis found a hand dripping in paint ruffling through his hair, causing an unsightly mixture of grey and red strands which stuck up at odd angles.

“Augh! My hair!”

Genesis's outraged screeching caused a round of laughter to echo through the group. Genesis began to wail about having old-guy hair like Sephiroth, who greatly resented (or resembled?) such comments and began to bicker back. Angeal held the boy steady even as the both of them had to restrain their laughter at the other two's antics. Before long they'd found the infirmary and, after a thank you, dropped him off. He'd need a few stitches. Genesis might have stayed, but the trio found their phones ringing with orders from Lazard to end the paintball war since it'd gone on more than long enough, thank-you-very-much.

It took a good hour or two of yelling, threatening with swords and other general mayhem, but eventually they managed. The Turks had helped despite the raucous laughter directed at Reno by Genesis, who had been rendered incomprehensible apart from some sort of comments about 'kindergarten camouflage' due to his fellow redhead’s abnormally bright colour palette. The Turk took it in good stride, bit back about 'geezer hair', and promptly ran for cover from the flaming commander.

Partway through bullying janitorial crews into cleaning up, Genesis halted. He blinked, then shrieked in dismay before booking it towards the infirmary.

“I never got his name!”

Sephiroth and Angeal raced after him, only to find upon arriving an empty bed and an inconsolable redhead.

“Oh well. Perhaps you'll see him again?” Angeal said, patting his friend on his back.

“I never saw him without his helmet! How am I going to recognize him?”

Sephiroth shook his head sadly, the trio leaving the room. Genesis wailed dramatically and Angeal frowned. Finding one trooper in a million would be a nearly impossible endeavour.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x 

It turned out a lot easier than anyone expected.

A few days later an unholy, high-pitched scream rent through the air. The big trio stopped just in time to see one Zackary Fair running at full speed, tearing through the halls rampantly while being chased by a chocobo-headed trooper with a paintball gun and a glare in his eyes so terrifying even Sephiroth was stopped dead.

“I knew there was a reason I liked that kid!” Genesis crowed.

Angeal sighed. This was going to be interesting.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

BONUS

Angeal stared.

“Oh don't give me that look. Cloud's actually not a bad guy!”

Angeal blinked, then continued to stare.

Zack grumbled, but continued his ramble. “I mean, okay, maybe he's taking after Genesis a bit too much, and he's a liiiiiittle too good at lightning materia for anyone's comfort, but once you get to know him he's actually kinda really sweet! He's pretty shy actually, but I think it must've been a lot worse before Genesis got to him.”

Angeal sighed, rubbing his temples. “Zack...”

“It's okay! Really, it is! We made it up to each other! I said sorry a few times, okay a lot, he threatened me with bodily harm and humiliation a few times, I asked nicely, er, well, begged him not to, and so on and so forth until we finally settled on a deal we could both agree on!” The puppy grinned.

“You're not very good at bargaining...”

Zack huffed. “I am too!”

The burly first glanced at Zack's current predicament, frowning, “Zackary Fair, you are duct-taped upside-down to a training room wall in a fluffy pink chocobo suit.”

Zack just grinned, flapping his feathery pink arms happily. “It could've been a lot worse, ya know!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah!” Smile still on his face, the SOLDIER mentee pointed at the troopers grinning with their cameras a few meters away. “They don't have any cream pies to throw at me, now do they?!”

Angeal suddenly didn't want to know.


End file.
